Compulsion
by pinkdigi
Summary: She wonders if it's possible for two people to be fated for one another, and if it's possible for only one of them to realize it. [HG oneshot]


**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Compulsion**  
—

They start off her fifth year as friends, and it's a nice feeling.

Soon enough, that feeling changes into something more serious, something that may just destroy her one day.

And at first, she doesn't notice.

—

She figures out, eventually, what the butterflies in her stomach mean.

He grins at her and runs his hand through his hair, and her heart skips about seven beats.

She sometimes gets the impression that he feels the same way about her, but maybe that's just wishful thinking.

—

She normally gets what she wants.

She can't understand why this is going to be any different.

—

There are so many people at Hogwarts.

But it seems like whenever she looks up, he is the first person she sees in the crowd.

She wonders if it's possible for two people to be fated for one another, and if it's possible for only one of them to realize it.

—

He helps her with her homework one night in the Common Room, and later that night in the girls' dormitory, Demelza squeals that they are so cute together and she just _knows _that he is really into her.

She orders herself to not get her hopes up, but that really isn't a possibility when it comes to him.

—

She hasn't ever had a _real _boyfriend before.

So maybe she isn't really in love with him. Maybe she just fancies him more than she's ever fancied anyone else.

But his shoulder brushes hers at breakfast the next day, and she seriously doubts it.

—

Seamus teases him about his feelings for her one night, and he blushes, but doesn't deny it.

She is calm on the exterior but exploding on the inside.

And not for one moment does she realize that although he doesn't deny it, he doesn't agree, either.

—

There are moments that she is _positive _he's about to kiss her. She thinks she'd bet her life on it.

And there are moments that it's only them in the room, even though they're surrounded by all off Gryffindor.

She doesn't need to rush this, doesn't need to verbally address their feelings, because falling in love is so _fun_.

Surely he feels the same way.

—

The school year ends, and she goes home to The Burrow.

He'll be along shortly. And two months of just the two of them is _exactly _what she needs to finalize the plans she began months and months ago.

—

Ron sends him a letter inviting him to come stay. She is on edge all week, awaiting a reply.

When can they come pick him up?

Finally, an answer comes.

He says that Lupin's got room enough for one more at his flat, so _thank you_, _but no thank you_.

She's crushed, but knows it will be okay. The start of term is only two months away.

Their feelings will still be there when September rolls around.

—

She is not greeted with a kiss, not even a hug.

He smiles and waves, then leaves to grab a compartment with Ron and Hermione.

She sits with her friends, only half-listening to their stories about summer, wondering why he didn't invite her to sit with him.

—

She sees him talking to Susan Bones one day after Herbology and does a double take.

Why is he talking to her?

And why is he running his hand through his hair like that?

Her heart starts cracking again, in the places where it has already healed over too many times to count.

—

She is frosty to him at dinner that night, though she has no reason to be.

He hasn't done anything wrong, after all.

It isn't his fault she can't strike up the courage to admit her feelings.

She hates that what they had last year – no, what they _almost _had last year – means nothing to him.

—

She really, _really _wishes she could hate him.

Because doesn't he deserve just that?

The worst part is that he wouldn't even notice if she did start hating him.

—

It's frustrating, because it's ridiculous how close she was to snatching him up.

He was in her grasp, and for some reason, she didn't cash in on the opportunity.

And now, to him, she's just past tense.

—

She makes a list.

One column for all the things she likes about him (_she comes up with seven, but three are the same thing put in different ways_), and one for all the things she doesn't (_she writes down eleven, but can actually think of twice that many_).

And yet she can't get enough of him, and she can't seem to stop thinking about him, and she can't envision a time in the near (_or distant_) future when she will feel any differently.

—

She needs to start liking someone else. It's the only way she can get over him.

For a brief moment, she worries that transferring her feelings to someone new will only end in the same situation.

But she knows that isn't true.

Nobody else can ever make her feel this way.

—

She drops her books in the hall one day and Terry Boot stops to help her pick them up.

He says _any time_ after she thanks him, and his tone makes her flush.

He has a nice face and a kind smile, and she thinks it's strange that they've never really spoken before.

—

She runs into Terry again three days later.

They're in the library, where _no noise will be tolerated_, and they have a forty-five minute conversation.

When she first approaches, she asks him if he's working and he shakes his head, tells her he just finished. _Sit down_, he says.

When she leaves, she looks over her shoulder to see him open his book again and continue with his homework.

—

She comes down her staircase just as he comes down his, and he smiles warmly at her, the way he used to when they were _so close _to getting somewhere.

_Morning, Gin_, he says.

She walks to breakfast on a cloud, and when Terry catches her eye from where he sits with his friends and waves, she looks down and pretends she doesn't notice him.

She looks up again, thinking that she should probably meet his gaze, she can't find him.

She tries to remember what he looks like, but all she sees is messy hair and a faded scar, and that's no good.

Except it is.

—

They have the same encounter the next morning on their ways down to breakfast, but this time he nods at her presence, the way her brother would.

It's like a knife twisting into her, because a smile from him can make her day and anything less can make her want to die, and he doesn't even realize.

She goes down to breakfast and suddenly she can spot Terry in the crowd again.

She waves; he looks down.

Maybe he just didn't notice her.

—

Every essay she gets back – other than Potions – has an _O_ on it.

She thinks that she would trade all those good grades for a handful of _T_s if it meant having him.

—

The Patil twins decide to throw a huge party.

She has too much to drink and Terry (_when did he get there_?) puts his arms around her, so she kisses him.

It's nice to be kissed, even if it isn't by the person she really wants to be kissing her.

She pulls away, though, because all she can think is _what will Harry do if he finds out_?

—

The answer is _nothing_.

Their moment in time is over to everyone but her. Even her friends don't bring him up anymore.

But she holds on because she has to, because love isn't a choice, and because she just knows that he'll come around.

She'll die if he doesn't.

—

Why is it always him?

There are plenty of nice boys around, so why does it _have _to be him, the boy who doesn't want her?

She wishes things could be different. She wishes she could be different.

Did she do something wrong? Did she change without realizing it? Or should she change now? Will he like her better if she does?

She has tried pretending he doesn't matter, and she has tried ignoring her feelings, but nothing ever helps.

She just wants to be with him.

Is that so much to ask?

—

He catches the Snitch but they lose the match (as well as the Quidditch Cup), and everyone somberly marches up to the castle with their heads down, the absolute picture of defeat.

They're the last two in the change room and his head is in his hands. She sits down at his side and tells him that he played brilliantly, that he is the only person on their team who actually did his job perfectly.

He was the Captain and she knows that even beating Voldemort doesn't help balance out this loss.

He kisses her and she wants to pinch herself but won't take her hands out of his hair to do it.

His hands go up her shirt and she lets them.

And then clothes come off and he takes it too far, and she doesn't stop him, because isn't this what she's wanted for the past two years?

When it's over, he pushes his face into her neck and apologizes, calls himself all the bad names she's ever heard and a few that she hasn't.

And then he leaves her, and she finally gets her wish, because now she really does hate him.

—


End file.
